Theory and Relevant Decisions in Siberia
by Starhawk
Summary: The ninth doctor and Rose go looking for aliens that aren't trying to kill them. They find part of the doctor's past instead.
1. Chapter 1

**Theory and Relevant Decisions in Siberia  
by Starhawk**

He should have known it would happen in Siberia. He'd gone there once, after the Time War, expecting trouble. He hadn't found it. All he'd found was exactly what had been there before, minus his own people, and in a numb sort of way he had been strangely reassured. Some things went on no matter how the universe rewrote itself. The constancy of it all would have tipped him off, once upon a time.

It all started the day he asked Rose what she was thinking about. Well, actually, he asked her what she was doing lazing about in the kitchen when she'd clearly finished eating and there were uncountable things just waiting to be seen. But he _meant_ what was she thinking about, because she was staring at her coffee cup like it might start speaking to her at any moment.

She lifted her head, looked him right in the eye, and said three words he'd always secretly hoped to hear. Words that would prove beyond any doubt that he had been right to ask her twice. Words that hadn't come right away but now seemed to represent something of a revelation to her.

"I like aliens," she declared.

He beamed at her from his place in the doorway. "So do I! It works out, doesn't it, since we're both traveling with one."

"Let's go and see some," she insisted. She paid no attention to the reminder. "It's been so long since we've seen actual aliens. Well, aliens that aren't trying to kill us, anyway."

Since aliens that were trying to kill them did comprise a large percentage of the people they'd met recently, he supposed he should count himself lucky she wasn't turned off the lot of 'em. The fact that she wanted to actively seek them out was delightful news. Especially since he liked humans, he really did, but he was getting a bit tired of Earth and he wouldn't mind stretching his legs a bit, so to speak.

"Off we go then," he said cheerfully. "I know just the place."

Her smile echoed his, and she'd never needed more convincing than that. "Now you're talking!" She bounced up out of her chair without another glance at her coffee cup.

The constancy of it all would have tipped him off, once upon a time. Some things went on no matter how the universe rewrote itself. All he did was exactly what he'd done before, minus his own people, and in a distant sort of way he was aware of that. But now he had Rose, she had an insatiably curious nature, and he had a history.

He should have known it would happen in Siberia.

* * *

The strangest thing about it was that it looked so normal. That was her first impression on stepping out of the TARDIS, and then she decided that she'd been traveling with the doctor too long if this lot could look normal to her. There were aliens--people, she reminded herself--of all shapes and sizes, see-through and stone-like and lit up like Christmas trees.

It wasn't what they looked like that she noticed first, though. It was the way they were acting: like people, like the aliens on Platform One, like it was the end of the day and they were just on their way to the pub for a drink. No one on the street was shooting or stealing anyone else's skin or trying to take over the world... although knowing the doctor, that would come later.

"Time travelers," she said, looking back at him for confirmation. "Everyone here? Really?"

"Yup." He seemed immensely pleased with himself. "No one gets into Siberia without wandering, at least a bit. Doesn't recognize biomass that only moves linearly. It's invisible. Just walks right through, doesn't see a thing."

She was tempted to decide the answer to her question was yes and just forget the rest of it, but it was one of those things he said that she thought ought to make sense, only it didn't. "So, what you're saying is, there could be people who aren't time travelers here right now, and they wouldn't see any of this?"

He shrugged. "Could be. Why d'you come if not for Siberia, though? Pretty boring place otherwise, just a chunk of rock. Not a lot of visitors."

"Yeah, and that's another thing." She was staring around, trying to see the busy square without the people and the lights and the colors. She couldn't do it, so she turned back to frown at him. "Why d'you call it Siberia? That can't be its real name."

"And why not?" He pretended to take offense. At least, she was pretty sure he was pretending. "You think you were the first ones to come up with that name? Maybe you stole it from us! Siberia, indeed. More like Copycat Planet."

She grinned at him. Definitely pretending. "We didn't steal it, though. 'Cause if we had you wouldn't have said 'maybe.' So why d'you keep calling it that?"

"That's what it sounds like," he said, like he hadn't even protested. "In my language, anyway, but a lot longer. Siberia's quicker to say."

"What's your language like, then?" She was intrigued by the mention of anything to do with his planet, since he was usually so close-mouthed on the subject. "Did your people come here a lot?"

"Sometimes," he said curtly. "Here, come have a look at this."

She rolled her eyes, but only after he'd turned away and she was hurrying to catch up, because she didn't really want him to see her do it. He didn't have to tell her anything about his people. She wanted him to, though, and if he was going to drop hints like that then she wasn't going to just ignore them.

"Crystal ball," he was saying, standing outside a big round glass thing. "Step inside."

Someone almost barreled into her and she jumped out of the way. She was about to make a snarky comment when she heard the word "Sorry!" drift back to her. Okay, so she wasn't invisible, then. Good.

"What is it?" she wanted to know, eyeing the glass thing.

"Just a toy," he assured her. "In you go!"

She put both hands out to steady herself against the glass doorway, looking around curiously as she stepped into the spherical thing. It had been transparent on the outside, but it was silver inside and she could see her reflection plain as day on the curved wall in front of her. She glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting the opening she'd come through to have closed behind her, but no--there was the doctor, leaning against the "doorway" and smirking at her.

"What's it do?" she asked, reaching out to touch the silver lining.

He just nodded over her shoulder, and she looked back at her reflection in time to see it turn away. She frowned, trying to figure out what angle it was reflecting her at. The whole inside of the thing was shiny, shouldn't she be able to see herself all around?

Then she heard her own voice say, "But that doesn't make any sense!" Her reflection turned back to study her again, once more doing what she was doing. Except her reflection looked more surprised than puzzled.

"What--" She stared at herself. "I didn't say that!"

"So if I know the future," her reflection said slowly. The rest of the sentence was drowned out by the doctor's words.

"Not yet," he agreed from behind her. "But you will. It just projects you ahead a bit, reflects what you will do instead of what you are doing. Perfect crystal ball."

"That's impossible," she protested, still watching herself in the silver wall. Like a backwards mirror, she realized suddenly. With the silver on the near side and the glass on the far side. "How does it know what I'm going to say?"

Her reflection had started talking while she was, and all she heard was, "All I've got to do is not say it, right?"

"It doesn't 'know' anything," the doctor's voice told her. "It's not alive. It's just a little bitty temporal distortion." She turned to stare at him, and he added, "The back wall there's reflecting a slightly different time than the one you're in. A future time."

"But that doesn't make any sense!" she exclaimed. When she realized what she'd said, her eyes widened and she looked at her "reflection" in surprise.

"That's right," it was saying. She thought it sounded a bit cheeky. "D'you hear that?"

"It's not off by much," the doctor said cheerfully. "Just a few seconds."

"Oh, that's not fair," her reflection complained. It sounded a bit petulant, to her, and she wasn't sure she liked it.

"So if I know the future," she said, giving the wall a speculative look, "I should be able to change it, yeah?"

She could hear the grin in his voice as he said, "You won't be the first person to try."

"Come on," she insisted, talking over her reflection. "I just heard myself say 'd'you hear that.' All I've got to do is not say it, right?"

"Sure." But he said it like he was only indulging her. "Simple as that. Peek into the future, rewrite the timeline, go for tea. I do it all the time."

"You are so full of it," her reflection said.

"Hah!" she declared. "That's right! D'you hear that?"

He just grinned at her, and only then did she realize what she'd said. "Oh, that's not fair!" she complained. And there, look, she was still doing it.

"Prove it, then," her reflection was saying now.

He shrugged. "You can see the past too; doesn't mean you can change it."

"But you can," she pointed out. Her reflection disappeared suddenly, and something occurred to her. "Hey, what happens if you step in here? Can you change what you'll say?"

"Course I can," he said smugly. "Easy."

This time she knew she was going to say it, and she didn't even care. "You," she informed him, "are so full of it."

He didn't disagree, just smiled, and she shook her head.

"Prove it then," she told him. She stepped out of the silver sphere and tilted her head toward it. "Let's see you rewrite the timeline. Go on!"

"Got a better idea," he informed her. "Don't say I never bought you anything."

That was enough to distract her, even if he hadn't taken her hand and pulled her away from the glass ball thing. "Bought me what?" she wanted to know, skipping a little to keep up. "What are you going to buy me?"

"Wait and see," he said cheerfully. Maybe it was supposed to be mysterious, but he sounded like he was seconds away from laughing, so she kept at him for the fun of it.

"Come on, tell me," she insisted. "Is it... chips? Nah, this lot doesn't eat chips. Ice cream? Everyone eats ice cream. It's got to be a universal constant."

"It's not," he interrupted.

"Not a universal constant, or not what you're going to buy me?" she teased. "I haven't had ice cream in weeks!"

"Hold still," he said, squeezing her hand to warn her as they came to an abrupt stop. Other pedestrians--if you could call the things that weren't really walking pedestrians--swirled around them, except for a vaguely human-looking shape directly in front of them.

The doctor dropped her hand and pulled her closer, arm around her shoulder, and for a moment she thought it might dangerous. He was beaming at the still form, which didn't really mean anything. But he said "Smile!" instead of "Run!" and that had to be a good sign.

She smiled uncertainly at the human-like person, and the little colored box in its hands lit up with a blue glow. The blue light swirled all around it before fading, and then there was a sound like a ding and a piece of paper popped out of the box. "Compliments," the sort-of human said, offering the paper to the doctor.

"Right," the doctor agreed, letting go of her to accept the thing. "Thanks!"

"What is it?" she wanted to know, crowding close to him to peer at it. "What's that, a sort of photograph? Who is it?"

He passed it over to her, folding his arms as he turned to look over her shoulder. "Look closer," he said, sounding amused.

It was a couple of little kids, and now that she held it, she could tell it wasn't paper. It was some kind of filmy plastic or something. A little boy with his arm around a shorter blonde-haired girl, one grinning widely out of the frame and the other just smiling, a little warily, like she wasn't quite sure this was where she was supposed to be.

"Hang on," she said, frowning at the picture. "That looks a bit like me when I was little."

"Yeah," the doctor agreed. He was crowding her as he studied the image too. "Your hair's lighter now. And where'd you get that t-shirt? Not your color at all."

"That's my gym team shirt!" she exclaimed, lifting her head to stare at him. "I grew out of that when I was seven and my mum cut it up for rags."

"Seven?" He didn't return her look, pretending to scrutinize the picture more carefully. "Funny. I'd have said eight or nine."

"If that's me," she said firmly, "there's no way I'm nine. The gymnastics team got new shirts every year, and that's an under sevens tee."

"Oh, not you," he countered. He nodded at the picture. "I meant me."

She gaped at him, then twisted away from him to hold the picture up beside his face. She squinted, looking from the grinning little boy to him and back again. "Blimey, is that _you_?"

"You don't have to look so surprised," he said, sounding hurt. "I grew out of it."

"Is that _you_?" she repeated. She couldn't help giggling. The little boy had brown hair and bright blue eyes and an insanely pleased expression on his face, but... "It doesn't look anything like you!"

"Well, that was a long time ago," he said defensively.

She bit her lip, trying to hold in her grin. "Is that a school uniform you're wearing?"

He gave her a suspicious look. "How d'you know that?"

She laughed, delighted by absolutely everything. His expression, the little boy in the picture, the comment about her hair, all of it was suddenly perfect. "I know what you looked like when you were little!" she gloated, spinning away to keep the picture safe in case he tried to take it back. "I'm so keeping this!"

Instead of chasing her, he just watched her dance away with a smile on his face. She grinned back at him. "Is this my present, then?" Because she had to admit, it was a good one. Incomprehensible, but good.

"No," he said, surprising her. "Little further down. Less tourist-y."

She followed him without question, but when he paused in front of an open-air vendor's display she raised her eyebrows. The racks were filled with gadgets and charms and sparkly things that she couldn't see much purpose to, except that they were pretty and a lot of them seemed to have the same sorts of symbols on them. Like... souvenirs, or something.

This was definitely where he was going, though, because he was pulling something off of one of the racks and holding it up for the vendor to see. She squinted at it, but the mud-like vendor person distracted her by waving him away. "Our compliments," it was saying, and when she looked at the doctor he was giving her a sideways glance that she didn't think she was supposed to notice.

"Well," he said, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Like he wanted to argue, but wasn't about to do it while she was watching. "Thanks, then."

The same thing the sort-of human with the camera had told him, she thought, making the connection abruptly. Was he getting things he shouldn't for free? Or was she totally misreading the situation?

"Here's your present," he told her. He was holding up a little silver charm in the shape of the letters "TT". The same design was repeated all over one of the racks, obviously some kind of identifying symbol, and he was waiting for her reaction.

"Sorry," she said innocently, "did you say _not_ tourist-y?" She was glad to see his face relax a little with the teasing. "Or did I hear you wrong?"

"I said _less_ tourist-y," he corrected, fingering the charm and then holding it higher so it was on a level with her face. "Say your name."

She was already leaning closer to inspect it. She gave him an odd look, but she said obediently, "Rose Tyler."

He spun the charm around in his fingers, held it to his ear, and then nodded in satisfaction. "All set," he declared. "C'mere. Goes on your zipper."

She stared at him in utter non-comprehension. When he reached for her, though, she came closer and let him take hold of the edge of her sweatshirt. "Can't have you taking it off and leaving it somewhere," he explained, fussing with the zipper.

She opened her mouth to protest that she didn't, but he overrode her. "You do," he said, eyeing her until she subsided with a token sigh. "All the time, it's just luck you haven't lost it yet. This way, anyone who travels finds it and they'll know to bring it here."

"And by 'travels' you mean 'travels in time,'" she guessed, watching him affix the little "TT" symbol to her sweatshirt zipper.

"Only kind that counts," he agreed, a little less cheery and a little more concentrated as he gave the zipper a tug and the thing didn't come off. "And even if they don't, at least they'll have your name."

She frowned at him, wondering where that came from. "How d'you mean?"

"Touch it," he suggested. He took a step back, folding his arms again and looking expectant.

So she took hold of the new zipper pull, and as soon as she touched it she heard her own voice saying, "Rose Tyler." She blinked. "Well, that might get some attention."

"Only person who hears it is the person who touched it," he told her. "Very low-key, very subtle. Don't leave your sweatshirt lying around and no one'll ever know."

She made a face at him, but he was staring over her shoulder like he'd seen her mum or something. She turned. Nothing weird behind her--at least, nothing weirder than everything they'd seen since they got here. "What is it?" she asked, scanning the street for some clue.

She heard him whisper something that didn't make any sense. Before she knew it, he was off at a run and drawing every eye in the crowd with his yell. She knew when to leg it. She was right behind him as he chased whatever it was she hadn't seen, and people were actually getting out of their way, but they must not be catching up with his wild goose because finally he turned a corner and just stopped.

She ran into him, bouncing off of his shoulder and gasping for breath. "Oi," she panted, "what was that?" She drew in another breath and added, "Trouble?"

"Yeah," he said, staring down the crowded street. He didn't explain, though, just muttered, "That pretty much sums it up."

"Trouble," she reminded him breathlessly, "describes everything we've ever done."

He favored her with a half-smile, like he wanted to be amused but couldn't quite manage it right now. "Think I just saw a dead person."

* * *

The thing about Siberia was that it had stabilized long before anyone moved in and started selling souvenirs. It was a self-regulating temporal anomaly, something everyone was willing to take advantage of but not many people could completely explain. Come here, and you could meet anyone from any time--but you never met them before you'd met them the last time, and you never met yourself.

Temporal enforcers loved it, because they could catch up with friends in their off-hours without having to use company resources. Tourists came in droves, enjoying the company and the freedom from "native" time restrictions. Physicists studied the environment, social scientists studied the community, and all the smart ones--students, mostly--gave up and got drunk already.

Siberia was not for the logical mind. It was for the curious ones, the wanderers, the people who were willing to accept the possibility of anything they could perceive and a good number of the things they couldn't. It was for the minds whose first trip through time had taught them that everything they learned in school was wrong.

The Time Lords rarely left Gallifrey, and those that did were not the most logical his world had produced. They had all found their way here at least once in their lives. And if there was any place in the universe that still remembered them, Siberia was that place.

Memories were all they were, though, at least for him. The last time he'd seen anyone from his planet had been just before the battle that wiped them from the face of the universe. You couldn't see a person before you'd last seen them, even here.

So the girl with the braid and the black bomber jacket was a figment of his imagination. She had to be. She was just a memory, a time ghost, a trick of the temporal anomaly.

Or else he was going mad.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

A dead person. Okay, well, wasn't like they'd never seen a dead person walking around before, but the way he looked made her think there was more to it than that. "Any particular dead person?" she wanted to know. "Someone you know?"

He didn't answer, not directly anyway, and as far as she was concerned that meant yes. He answered her questions. Not always in a useful way, and not always with the detail she wanted, but he answered. Except when it came to his past.

"Hang on a minute." He was frowning at something on the street, but she couldn't tell what it was until he started walking. He was heading for a windowless alley between shops, unremarkable until they ducked down it and she realized there was a mirror propped just inside the entrance.

"What's that, then?" she asked, since it looked like that was what had got his attention. "What's a mirror doing here?"

"Well, that's the question, isn't it," he said thoughtfully. He stopped in front of it, and it was taller than he was. Wider, too. A full-length, free-standing mirror, parked in an alley between time travelling tourist shops. He was reaching out to touch it when she saw something move across the reflective surface.

She turned quickly. There was a woman standing at the entrance to the alleyway now. Backlit by the light from the street, she looked very dark. Black leggings, black skirt, black jacket... the expression on her face was hidden by shadow, but she looked human enough. Leaning casually against the corner, she gave the impression that she'd been waiting for them all along.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rose was relieved to see the doctor had turned away from the mirror and was studying the stranger too.

"Looking for something?" The woman's voice sounded younger than she'd expected, but it had a sort of "don't mess with me" tone that made Rose wonder what they'd done wrong this time.

The doctor crossed his arms, and she glanced sideways at him. "You, actually," he said, and the odd note in his voice echoed his defensive posture.

"Oh yeah?" The woman didn't move, and if it weren't for the fact that she'd just voiced Rose's question exactly, Rose would have been tempted to jump in and try to smooth things over. "What'd I do to deserve that?"

The doctor hadn't taken his eyes off of her. "You survived."

Rose looked at him in surprise. Was this was his dead person, then? The one they'd been chasing?

If the woman knew what he was talking about, she didn't give any sign. "So far," she agreed, in a tone that indicated she was just humoring a crazy man she'd met on the street. Her gaze flicked to Rose, and the lack of recognition was clearly mutual.

"But the Prydon Academy burned," the doctor protested, and that got her attention. Got both of them looking at him, actually. The what?

It must have meant something to the other woman. "Yeah, I heard that."

The doctor was just staring at her. "You weren't there?"

The woman glanced down at herself, lifting each elbow in turn as though looking for something. "No singe marks," she said with a shrug. "Guess not."

"Rose." The doctor wasn't moving, not even to look at her as he asked, "Is there a girl standing by the corner talking to me? Black jacket, lots of spaceship patches, that sort of thing?"

Rose squinted at the figure, deciding that yes, some of the patches on that jacket might be space shuttles and things. "Yeah," she reported. "Definitely looks that way."

The doctor nodded once. "Okay."

The stranger shifted a little, just enough that her face was in better light, and Rose could see that the other woman looked almost as confused as she felt. "Do I know you?" she asked carefully.

Rose glanced at the doctor just in time to see him smile a bit. It was a sad looking smile, not a happy one. "You did, once," he agreed. "Couple of lifetimes ago."

The woman studied him, and Rose wondered what she saw. He knew her, but she didn't recognize him? Who could forget the doctor?

"You from Gallifrey?" the woman asked at last.

She gave the doctor a sharp look, but he didn't seem surprised. "Was," he said quietly.

The woman nodded as though that explained everything. "Right." Her tone had lost some of its wariness. "Sorry about that then."

"'Scuse me," Rose said, when it didn't look like the doctor would answer. "Gallifrey?" In a moment of weakness, he had told her the name of his planet, then never mentioned it again. "Are you from Gallifrey too?" she asked the other woman.

The stranger shrugged. "Depends how you reckon it. Lived there longer than anywhere else. Born on Earth, though."

"Right," the doctor said abruptly. "Rose, this is Dorothy Gale, better known as Ace." She saw the woman straighten out of the corner of her eye, like she hadn't expected that.

"Ace," he added, "this is Rose Tyler. Another London girl, you'll like her," he remarked flippantly. "Better at running, not so handy with the explosives."

The woman he had called "Ace" was staring at him, looking... well, almost like he had when he'd taken off down the street in pursuit of a dead person. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Rose looked from one to the other but the reaction didn't seem to have anything to do with her, so she stayed out of it.

Finally, Ace found her voice. "Professor?" she murmured.

For the first time since they'd stepped into the alley, the doctor's face lit up. He beamed at her, holding his arms out to his sides as he asked, "What's the matter? Don't like the new look?"

Ace didn't smile. "Oh my god," she whispered, taking a few steps forward.

The light on her face changed as she moved, and Rose realized she wasn't as dark as she'd looked. Her clothes were black, but she had light skin and mousy brown hair. There was a braid down her back and colored patches on her coat and she was wearing brown hiking boots.

Not so good for running, Rose thought absently.

"Is it the jacket?" the doctor was asking, but Ace paid no attention to his attempt at humor.

"I thought you were dead," she accused, her voice gaining strength as she approached. "I thought she was wrong and you'd gone and died with all the rest of them!"

That wiped the grin off his face. "I was," he started, then shook his head. "I mean, I did--"

She was close enough to hurt him now. Rose tensed at her sudden movement, but the strange woman just threw her arms around him. He hugged her back, as hard as he'd ever hugged Rose, and suddenly she thought, they traveled together.

"I love the jacket," Ace choked, and it was hard to tell whether she was on the verge of laughter or tears.

_They traveled together._

"Um," Rose began, a little awkwardly. "Do you want me to..."

"No." The doctor didn't even let her finish. "The three of us'll have tea. Sit down, catch up, shake it all about.

"Come on," he added, when Ace started to pull away. "Know just the place."

Ace turned, like she was seeing Rose for the first time, and it was definitely laughter that hovered around her bright-eyed expression. "He always does, doesn't he."

Rose smiled tentatively. "Yeah... He does that."

So they ended up in some little place that smelled sort of like pizza, and Ace endeared herself to Rose by demanding that the doctor pay for her calzone. "You owe me," she informed him. "For letting me think you were dead."

"I could say the same of you," he retorted. "Buy your own lunch."

"Cheap bastard," Ace muttered. But she did, and she even asked Rose if she wanted anything, which made the doctor all indignant.

"I can still pay for the living," he complained, turning to Rose expectantly. "So what'll it be?"

She blinked, not quite sure what to make of that. "I just ate," she reminded him.

"Right." He made a shooing motion in Ace's direction. "Go on, then. We're fine."

"So glad to hear it," Ace said dryly. She made her way toward the counter while they found a table, and it was odd but she seemed very much like them in the midst of the varied alien clientele. Even the strangest looking humans looked the same now, familiar even, as she began to understand how _not_ human the rest of the universe was.

The doctor drummed on the table as he sat down. "So," he began, leaning toward her. His voice was quieter than usual. "Where d'you want to start?"

She looked over and caught his eye, leaning in to put their heads together while she braced her elbows on the table. "Where did you meet her?"

"Iceworld," he said briefly. "Your future. Waitress there, caught in a timestorm after she got kicked out of school on Earth."

"Kicked out?" Rose repeated.

The doctor grinned. "_Very_ good with explosives."

She decided it might be better not to know. "Did she travel with you a long time?"

"Not long enough," he said, his grin fading a little. "Too curious by half, too clever to stay with me. Nothing to do but pack her off to school and hope she stayed out of trouble."

School, she thought? She almost asked but then the pieces clicked together in her mind. "You sent her to school on Gallifrey," she said. "Your home planet."

"Give the girl a gold," he declared, and she couldn't tell if he was really surprised or just teasing. "Gallifrey it was. Would have made a terrible Time Lord, her." He smiled proudly. "Just like me."

Rose felt this deserved confirmation. "She went to Gallifrey to become a Time Lord?"

"Yup." His face darkened then, and he looked away. Toward the counter, she thought, following his gaze. Ace was leaning against it, gesturing emphatically at the sort of wet-looking creature on the other side. There really was something of the doctor in her... her intensity, Rose thought, or maybe her self-possession. Or something.

"Good idea," the doctor muttered. "Bad timing."

"She got caught in the Time War?" Rose guessed, careful to keep her voice down.

"Thought so." He was frowning now, and he hadn't looked away from the woman at the counter. "Don't know how she's here now. Must have left the academy before--"

He broke off abruptly, and he didn't start again.

Finally Rose nudged his shoulder. "Why does she call you professor?" she wanted to know.

That brought a smile to his face, and he threw her a grateful glance. "Dunno," he said, shrugging cheerfully. "Not the worst nickname I've had, though."

"Yeah?" she said, smirking back at him. "What's the worst, then?"

"Oh no." He wagged a finger at her. "That's for me to keep secret and you to never know."

"Guess I'll just have to start guessing," she teased. "Let's see. If not doctor, or professor... maybe captain? Skipper? Gunner?"

"Gunner?" he repeated skeptically. "Where d'you get 'gunner' from?"

"Oh, so I'm on the right track with 'captain'?" she said with a laugh. "Commander? Master?"

"No," he said quickly. "That's a different bloke."

"What?" She stopped, blinking at him. "Who?"

"The master. Same class, better scores in cosmic science. Always using time flow analogues to muck up my experiments," he added. "Very irritating."

She stared at him. "Seriously? The master?"

He nodded once. "Yup."

"D'you all use titles instead of names?" she asked incredulously.

He grinned at her. "Only the bad ones."

He shifted a little then, sitting up straighter, and she saw Ace making her way toward them with a plate of something that really did smell like pizza. "What about you, Ace?" he asked as she pulled out a chair. "Were you one of the bad ones?"

Ace didn't hesitate. "Most likely." She tugged her jacket off and dropped it over the back of the chair before she sat down, and Rose was surprised to realize she was wearing an ordinary t-shirt underneath. "Started as a bad wolf, ended as a bad Time Lord."

"All the good ones were bad." The doctor was more vehement about it than she'd expected, but the declaration drew a reluctant smile from Ace.

"Cryptic as ever, yeah?" She caught Rose's eye, like she was sharing a joke, but the doctor leaned forward before she could say anything else.

"Ace," he said. "Why d'you leave the academy?"

She looked down at the table, poking at her plate uncomfortably. "I ran out on them when they needed everyone who could help. Does it matter why?"

"Does to me," he said quietly.

Ace lifted her gaze, and her expression wasn't ashamed. It was mutinous. "D'you know what they wanted the Prydonians to do?" she demanded.

The doctor looked at her for a long moment, his face unaccountably grim. "Got a pretty good idea," he muttered at last. "Yeah."

"I couldn't do it," she said. She sat back in her chair, looking disgusted. "And you know what the worst part is? I've thought maybe... Every day since, I've thought maybe I was wrong."

"Eight hundred years," the doctor said seriously, "and I couldn't do it either. Eleven hundred, suddenly I could. Think I was wrong both times."

Ace studied him. "There's no right answer, then?"

"Maybe there is." The doctor was looking at her, Rose realized suddenly. Why? "Just haven't found it yet, is all."

"Sorry." Ace followed his gaze, giving her an apologetic grimace. "Awfully gloomy, I guess." She reached for her plate, making an obvious effort to change the subject. "What'd I interrupt, before?"

This seemed to be directed at Rose, but she wasn't sure she wanted to get in the middle of... whatever this was.

The doctor took the decision away from her. "Rose was just trying to guess one of my more embarrassing nicknames," he offered. "So far she hasn't come up with anything worse than 'gunner.'"

Ace actually ducked her head, giving the impression that she was stifling a snicker. She swallowed, shaking her head once, and this time she was definitely addressing Rose. "Try the Greek alphabet," she advised.

That made the doctor sit up, looking from one of them to the other. "Now, that's not fair," he complained. "Someone at the academy has been telling you stories!"

"Someone?" Ace repeated, smirking at him. "Try _everyone_. Long memories, those Time Lords."

"Wait--" It seemed safer to interrupt this conversation, and Rose did, feeling more than a little left out. "What'd I miss?"

"Theta Sigma," Ace informed her. "That was his nickname during his academy days. His mates called him 'Thete'."

"Oh, you had to go and tell her," he grumbled. "Thought I'd finally got rid of that name for good. Never hear the end of it, now."

"You called me _Dorothy_," Ace reminded him. "You had it coming."

"How long were you at the academy?" Rose asked quickly, not wanting to miss her chance to get involved. "Did everyone know the doctor?"

"Everyone knew who he was," Ace said, rolling her eyes at him. "You didn't tell me you'd been the bloody _president_."

Rose looked at him in surprise, but he just shrugged uncomfortably. "Just a formality," he assured the two of them. "Kept me alive when they wanted to string me up, is all."

"One of many times," Ace corrected.

He eyed her. "You couldn't have had _that_ many of my old teachers."

"You'd be surprised how many people find the time to look you up in a hundred years," Ace said, biting into her calzone again.

"A hundred years?" Rose blurted out. "You're a hundred years old?" She saw the doctor giving her an amused glance out of the corner of her eye, but she ignored him.

"Hundred twenty-six," Ace said when she finished chewing.

"Hundred twenty-five," the doctor corrected.

She frowned over at him. "No, I'm sure it's twenty-six."

"I graduated," he reminded her. "You didn't. Got an innate sense of time, me."

Ace snorted. "Yeah, don't think I don't know that you and your innate sense of time barely passed your graduation exams the second time around."

"Barely passed?" Rose interrupted, looking from one of them to the other. "Is that true?"

"Oh, now look what you've gone and done," the doctor grumbled. "I get no respect from this one as it is!"

Ace grinned triumphantly at Rose. "Fifty-one percent," she declared. "On the second try. Don't let him make you think he knows everything."

"Yeah, that's _really_ been a problem in our relationship," the doctor muttered.

"Don't be such a baby," Rose told him. "Your head's almost as big on the outside as it is on the inside. You'll survive a few secrets getting out."

"But I'll wish I hadn't," he predicted. "Go on, share some of your illustrious past, then."

"Yeah, where are you from?" Ace put in. "London, right? When?"

"2005," Rose offered. "Well, six, now." She glanced at the doctor. "Or will it be seven, next time?"

"Up to you," he said, refusing to rise to the bait.

Ace looked from her to the doctor in surprise. "You visit, do you?"

"Yeah," Rose said ruefully. "My mum would have my head if I didn't."

Ace didn't answer, just raised her eyebrows at the doctor.

"What?" he said defensively. "It's not like you wanted to go back."

Rose glanced at him before looking back at Ace. "Didn't you ever go home, then?"

"Couple of times," she admitted, a smile playing about her face. "Not exactly on command, though."

"You could have done," the doctor protested. "After the cheetah people I didn't think you were too keen on it, is all."

Ace ignored him. "He's mellowing in his old age," she confided to Rose. "You're not careful, soon he'll be buying you trinkets and things and having tea with your mum."

Rose's hand went to her zipper pull, the doctor looked uncomfortable, and Ace caught on instantly. She laughed out loud. "Oh, I see how it is then! You spoil us rotten these days, don't you! Just a big softie," she added, with obvious affection.

"Not spoiling anyone," the doctor objected. "She earns her keep, just like you did. I show her 'round the universe, she saves my life now and again, and we call it even. That all right with you?"

Ace paid no attention. "So what's London like in your time?" she asked, leaning toward Rose conspiratorially. "We're only a couple decades apart, you know. Last time I was there was 1989... Johnny Chess still big?"

Rose frowned at her. "Who?"

"God, that's so depressing," Ace said with a sigh. "See, that's why I don't go back. It's all different. Or if it's not, it's so much the same that I think I'd be even more depressed."

"That doesn't make any sense," Rose pointed out, glancing sideways at the doctor.

"Give it time," Ace predicted. "So you from the city, or what? He pick you up in the middle of some big alien plot, or d'you just wander into the TARDIS by accident?"

"Big alien plot," Rose admitted, trying not to smile. "What about you?"

"Oh, I was the replacement," Ace told her. "His other companion got sick of wandering, so he took off with me instead."

"Oi!" The doctor banged his hand down on the table, apparently tired of being ignored. "That's not true at all!" When they both looked at him, he added, "Mel didn't get sick of wandering. She got sick of me."

Rose blinked, but Ace just rolled her eyes. "Well, can't imagine _that_," she drawled, and Rose couldn't help giggling as she turned the moment of solemnity into a joke.

"No," she agreed lightly. "No, I can't either."

"Enough of you lot, then," the doctor grumbled, but he was only pretending to be upset, she could tell. He was practically smiling to himself. "Just pretend I'm not here."

"I was from Perivale," Ace said, taking him at his word. "You still have Greenford, right?"

"Yeah," Rose agreed. "Other side of the city from me, then. Live on the Powell Estate with my mum. Worked downtown, till he blew it up."

"You blew up London?" Ace asked, sounding not at all incredulous.

"Just her department store," the doctor defended himself.

"And all that under the London Eye," she reminded him. "And Downing Street. Oh, and part of Cardiff."

"You blew up London," Ace repeated, as though that confirmed it. "And after all those lectures you gave me, too."

"It was C-4, not Nitro-9." The doctor said it like it mattered, like it made all the difference somehow. "Much more controlled, I'll have you know."

"What, the explosive on the roof of the department store?" Rose guessed. "What about the anti-plastic under the Eye? Or the gas explosion? Or the missiles, how well-controlled was that?"

"They had a specified target!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, specified by a car mechanic hacking into the Royal Navy with a forty-year-old password!"

"It was a perfectly good password!" he retorted. "And you don't need any special skills for a point-and-click missile launch! Good thing, too," he added under his breath, "or we'd all be so much radioactive sludge right now."

"I remember radioactive sludge," Ace said, and there was something that could have been nostalgia in her voice. "Guess the more things change, eh, Professor?"

The doctor scoffed at that, but a smile touched his face nonetheless. "You were a bad influence, Ace."

She smirked back at him. "Funny, s'what everyone I met at the academy said about you."

"Well, what d'you know," he teased. Then, heedless of their expectation, he remarked, "You've gone and got yourself a bit of an accent."

"Yeah?" Ace looked suddenly pleased. "Learned a little of the language, even. Guess it shows."

"Let's hear it, then." The doctor leaned back, folding his arms. "Go on, switch over."

"Don't put me on the spot or anything," Ace complained. "It's not gonna stand up to a native ear, you know."

"No, that's very good." The doctor was smiling at her. "Sounds very Prydonian. Not sure that's a compliment, mind you," he added. "But you could pass, easy."

Rose gave him an odd look before glancing back at Ace. "All I hear is English."

"That's 'cause you know English," the doctor told her. "Know any other languages?"

She made a face. "Just a bit of French. Went on a school trip once."

He shook his head like she'd asked a question. "Sorry, never learned that one. Ace?"

"Seulement un peu," she said promptly. "Juste que j'ai appris a l'ecole. Entends-tu le francais ou l'anglais maintenant?"

"Uh..." Correctly deducing that this was aimed at her, Rose struggled for the words. "J'entends le francais. C'est... vraiment bizarre?" She hadn't used French in a long time.

"It's all English to me," the doctor said cheerfully. "Or whichever one of the hundred other languages I know that I choose to hear, of course."

"Wait," Rose said, frowning at him. "You hear us speaking in whatever language you want?"

"Can," he said with a shrug. "You know enough French, and you can hear what I say in French if you want. Same for me. Rather listen to you in English, though. S'what you're speaking, right?"

Vaguely reassured, she nodded slowly.

"I've got a question," Ace interjected. "If you let us hear everyone in whatever language we know, where'd the accents come from? It's all English, yeah. But why d'you give everyone a British accent?"

The doctor shrugged again. "Everyone is British, to you lot."

"Hang on a minute," Rose protested. "You? I thought it was the TARDIS did that. Telepathic field from the TARDIS, right? Gets inside my head, translates?"

The doctor drummed his fingers on the table, looking oddly guilty, but Ace just brushed it off. "Him, the TARDIS, same thing," she said. "Speaking of..."

She trailed off, which didn't seem like her. It was barely enough to distract Rose from the idea that maybe whatever was in her head wasn't the TARDIS at all. When she looked at the doctor, though, he was still staring intently at the table.

"You saw the mirror," Ace prompted at last.

"Yup!" He looked up with a bright grin on his face, and Rose thought it looked a little forced. "Yours, then. S'pose you stole it. Good for you."

"Professor..." Ace was gentler than Rose had seen her yet. "I didn't steal it."

The doctor looked away, staring across the little shop like something had caught his eye. He didn't turn to follow movement, though, and he didn't say anything, and finally Rose understood that he was just refusing to look at them. At either of them.

"After I left," Ace said quietly. "I couldn't sleep much. At first I thought it was guilt or something, but it wasn't. It was so loud in my head... it was the war, wasn't it."

The doctor didn't look at her, but Rose saw him nod once.

"I still hear it," she said. She pushed her plate aside and put her hands on the table, staring down at them. "Just the echoes, I guess."

Noise in her head, Rose thought. And the doctor heard it too? Still heard it?

Ace looked up then, but the doctor hadn't moved. "One morning it was different. The noise, I mean. I heard this sound... like wind chimes, you know?"

There was silence for a moment. Just when she thought Ace would have continued, the doctor said curtly, "I know."

"The mirror was just there," Ace went on, her gaze fixed on him. "So I went in. Must have been programmed for me, didn't need a key or anything. Message came up as soon as I was inside, telling me--

Here she hesitated, and finally she said, "Well, it's not important, I guess. But she told me, if I ever saw you again, I should give you a message."

The doctor didn't ask, and Ace didn't wait for him to. "She said, 'Tell him Fred understands.' I don't know how she knew you'd make it, but..."

She stopped talking when the doctor stood up. He turned away from their table without a word, heading for the door. Ace just sat there, looking deflated. "Yeah," she muttered after him. "Figured you wouldn't want to talk about it."

"Talk about what?" Rose asked carefully, when she was sure the doctor was gone. He loved her curiosity when it came to everything except his past, but she wasn't going to pass up the chance to ask someone else about him. "The war? Who's 'she'? And what's that mirror thing, anyway?"

"The war," Ace said with a sigh. "Yeah. She's the president of Gallifrey, and the mirror was her TARDIS. She sent it to me just before she died."

"Okay," Rose agreed after a moment. "How come?"

"She knew I was friends with the professor," Ace said, staring after him. "I was easier to find than he was, I guess. Best way to get a message to him if she couldn't do it herself."

"What kind of message is that?" Rose asked curiously. "Fred understands? What does that mean?"

"Dunno," Ace admitted, glancing over at her. "Didn't meet anyone named Fred, and the professor's never mentioned him. But that's what she told me to say, so. I said it."

Rose shot a worried look in the direction of the door. "Think we should go after him?"

Ace didn't hesitate. "Yeah. I do."

So they did, and they found him moping just outside the door. His face brightened when he caught sight of them, though, and he gave them a smile that said he was ready to not talk about it some more. He teased each of them in turn, and they let him get away with it, because he was the doctor and they took care of him.

They went back to small talk about accents and explosives and even nicknames when the doctor made fun of a particularly obnoxious group of tourists. Rose pointed out that he didn't mind giving _other_ people nicknames, and Ace remarked that he could remember more names than she had ever known so he really needed to find a new excuse. The doctor thought he had an argument for this, but he didn't, so they laughed at him and linked arms behind his back and herded him down the happy, brightly lit street.

No one mentioned the war again. Rose did get a few more stories about Gallifrey out of them, but everyone avoided the names and subjects that made the doctor look away. It was fun, unusually relaxing, and for once absolutely nothing went wrong.

Until the moment they were standing in the alley again, waving to the sound of wind chimes as Ace's TARDIS slowly shimmered out of existence. Rose snuck a glance at the doctor, and he might be smiling but she thought his eyes looked a little too bright. She didn't say anything, just kept waving until the mirror had completely disappeared.

They stood there in the silence for a moment, contemplating the empty space.

Then there was the faint sound of wind chimes. It intensified again until it sounded like it was right in front of them, and Rose blinked as the mirror faded back into view. Forget something, she wondered?

A moment later, Ace poked her head out of the reflective surface. "That's not supposed to happen," she remarked, peering about with a puzzled frown.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

Of course they would conspire. His TARDIS had always had a soft spot for Romana: possibly because he did, or maybe just because she had bothered to read the manuals, he'd never been sure. Either way, her TARDIS was enough of her that his wasn't going to let it go until he'd been inside.

He didn't mention it to the girls. He just frowned, like the behavior of the second TARDIS was as much a puzzle to him as it was to them, and offered to have a look at it. There would be no avoiding it now, he knew. He could have given in with better grace, but if Ace threw him a worried look or three then he pretended not to notice.

Rose, at least, was visibly excited about seeing another TARDIS. That was something, he thought, though stepping through the mirror filled him with nothing but nostalgia. Romana's fondness for reflective surfaces had begun in E-space, and she was now the only positive association he had with the things.

The inside was just as he remembered it. She'd changed it a few times since she had appropriated it, centuries back, but she'd always left the hat rack by the door and the dog bed in the corner. Rose would appreciate the color scheme, he thought absently as she followed him through the mirror. Her fourth had liked pink as much as her second.

Ace didn't, though. He shook himself out of his funk long enough to give her a meaningful glance. "Don't have to leave it the way it was, y'know. She gave it to you."

"I know." Ace looked uncomfortable. "I just... it's not mine, I don't think. Not really."

"Really," he said firmly. "It is. It needs you, Ace."

"Yeah?" She was staring at him, and he thought she might understand. Always had been a smart one, Ace. "Well... do what I can, anyway."

"Good." He nodded once. What she could do was plenty. "Now let's see if--"

He didn't take more than a single step toward the controls before Romana appeared in a flash of light on the other side. No warning, no fanfare but for the light, and he heard Rose exclaim in surprise. No comment from Ace, though--and there wouldn't be, if she'd already gotten a message like this.

"Hello, Doctor." Romana's image was smiling at him, and he couldn't look anywhere else. "If you're seeing this, then I'm afraid it's all gone very badly. I've packed K-9 into the TARDIS and sent him off to find you or Ace, and this message may be the last time you ever see me."

* * *

She was ginger. For some reason, that surprised Rose. Bright red curls framed the face of a tall woman caught in what she supposed was some sort of hologram. The woman didn't move from where she was, anyway, and she seemed to be talking only to the doctor, like the rest of them weren't even there. Maybe it had been programmed for him, triggered by his presence or something?

"I don't have time to say some of the things I wanted to say," the woman continued, and she sounded surprisingly normal for someone who was apparently anticipating her own death. "So I'll just have to say everything."

Rose snuck a glance at the doctor. She realized belatedly that there was no need for secrecy, since the only thing he was paying any attention to was the hologram. So she watched him openly, but saw nothing past that expressionless stare.

"I love you," the woman was saying.

Now Rose turned to stare at her too. Really?

The woman seemed to reconsider her words. "Well, except for your sixth, 'cause you were hellishly obnoxious. But my third was a bit of a prat too, so I suppose we deserved each other."

Rose couldn't tell if that was meant to be accusatory or forgiving. The doctor seemed to find it funny, though, and his expression finally relaxed into something like a smile. "Prat, indeed," he muttered.

"I'll always love you," the hologram added. Obviously just a recording, then, not interactive or anything. "Remember that."

The doctor had gone quiet again, but she thought maybe the look on his face was answer enough. Who was this person who could say "I love you" to a man like the doctor and not have him turn it into a joke? Who could tell him he was obnoxious and get nothing but a smirk in response? Really... not even a wounded sort of sniff?

The president of Gallifrey, Ace had said. But he'd been in trouble with Gallifreyan law more often than he'd been tolerated by it, if the stories he and Ace told were true. How did someone like that get to be the president's boyfriend? And how come the president hadn't come up in any of those stories, anyway?

"I know what you're trying to do," the woman was saying, oblivious to Rose's questions but somehow looking right at where the doctor was standing. "And I know why."

Rose didn't, but she'd have liked to. This had to have something to do with the way his planet had been destroyed, right? Too bad the hologram didn't seem to respond to anything... she would've liked to ask it a few questions.

"You know why I have to try to stop you," Ms. Hologram told the doctor. Then she added, "That doesn't change anything. It never has, for as long as we've known, and it doesn't now."

Yeah, that was a question. They were Time Lords, they knew everything there was to know about time: the past, the present, the future... so had they known what was going to happen to their planet? They must have, right? Why couldn't they stop it, change it somehow?

"I know you never wanted to be alone," the woman said quietly, and Rose looked away when the doctor shot a sideways glance at her.

"Don't let yourself be the last." The hologram sounded sterner now. "Finish Ace's training, if she'll let you. Then find someone else, and train them too."

The red-haired woman broke into a smile suddenly. "You're not a bad teacher, you know. No matter what everyone else says."

"Oh, ha ha," the doctor muttered, folding his arms. The humor sounded half-hearted at best. He was trying, though. That must be a good sign.

"If you're seeing this," the woman continued more seriously, "then I know what happened. You took our past in your hands. It seems only fair that we trust you with our future."

A little afraid to look anywhere else, Rose found herself staring at the hologram as the woman lifted her left hand above her head. The right one joined it, and then she deliberately placed them on top of her head, one after the other. She looked almost relaxed, as though she were just having a bit of a stretch.

"Goodbye, Doctor," the curly-haired woman said with a smile.

The hologram vanished in a flash of light.

For a long moment, no one moved. Rose didn't know what to say, and Ace didn't seem to be any better off. So they were waiting for the doctor to say something. Except that he was off somewhere in his own little world... or maybe not little at all. Maybe it was just, literally, his own world.

Then, suddenly, he looked away from the TARDIS console and pinned Ace with a piercing look. "K-9?" he asked sharply.

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head. "If he's about, I've not been able to find him."

The doctor looked away. "You won't," he predicted. "He stayed with her."

"But she was going to send him off," Ace protested. "She said--"

"He figured out what she was planning," the doctor interrupted. "He would have done. Made sure she couldn't pull it off. He wouldn't have left her."

He paused, then added under his breath. "Stubborn robot. Deserved each other, they did."

When he stopped talking, the room was silent again but for the background hum of Ace's TARDIS. It was the only one that seemed sure of what it was doing. After a moment, though, Ace must have decided it had the right idea, because she walked over and leaned up against the console directly in front of the doctor.

"So," she said deliberately. It seemed Ace was not a woman who liked being ignored. "The president and the professor, eh? You made a handsome couple."

Rose held her breath, but the doctor just gave her a sort of absent smile. "S'pose so," he remarked noncommittally.

That wasn't quite what she'd expected, and Ace seemed taken aback too. "How long d'you know her?" the other woman pressed. This got a more typical response.

"None of your business," the doctor told her. His tone was pleasant, but he clearly didn't see any need for her continued questions.

Ace just as clearly did, and she gave Rose a pointed look. Right, like she wanted to get involved. Rose grimaced at her, but Ace just tipped her head toward the doctor with unmistakable impatience. That was nice, just drag her into it like she was--

Wait, what was she thinking? This was the doctor, and she was his companion.

Of course she wanted to get involved.

"So how long d'you know her, then?" Rose asked innocently.

The doctor spared her a brief glance. "Three hundred seventy-seven years."

"So that's just courting, yeah?" Ace pressed. "Barely even got to know her?"

The doctor shot another look in Rose's direction, this time rolling his eyes. "She's got a mouth on her, this one."

"Learned from the best," Ace said with a smirk.

The doctor snorted. "Butter me up all you like," he declared. Ace finally got a look from him, and it was as amused as ever. "Still not telling you who Fred is."

An odd expression took over her round face, and Ace tilted her head toward the place where the hologram had appeared. "It's her, isn't it. She's Fred."

The doctor's stare lasted only a second before he turned it on the central column of Ace's TARDIS. "Oh, thanks a lot, you," he told it indignantly. "Anything else you want to spread around while you're at it?"

"Wait, who's Fred?" Rose wanted to know. "The hologram woman? I thought you knew her," she added, frowning at Ace.

"I do," Ace said. "At least, I did. But... the TARDIS said--"

"Her name's Romanadvoratrelundar," the doctor interrupted. "First time we met, I told her it was either Romana or Fred, and she picked Fred." He shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "So I called her Romana."

"Yeah, I can see why you got on," Ace said dryly.

"Yup." The doctor beamed. "Nothing better for a relationship than a little aggravation early on. And some in the middle. All the way along, actually. Makes you appreciate things."

Rose stared at him, and he happened to glance at her before she could look away. "What?" he wanted to know. "What's that look for?"

She blinked, shaking her head a little. "I'm just... surprised to hear you all--" She stopped and frowned at him. "Hang on. Isn't that sort of, I don't know, _domestic_?"

"What?" he repeated.

"You..." She waved helplessly. "Being all googly-eyed over a girl. It's sort of... it just seems a bit off, is what I'm saying."

"Does it ever," Ace muttered.

"Googly-eyed?" the doctor repeated indignantly. "That a technical term, then? Do I look googly-eyed to you?" He peered at her, leaning forward and widening his eyes until he did indeed look a bit googly. "Well? Do I?"

She couldn't help laughing at him, pushing against his shoulder ineffectually as she tried to make him back off. Or rather, pretended to try, since even at his oddest it wasn't like she wanted to get rid of him or anything. "You look like a loony," she protested, giggling when he crossed his eyes at her.

"Really? Don't feel like a loony." He gave her a concerned look and straightened up. "Maybe it's you."

"Oh, that's just typical, isn't it," she teased. "It's not you, it's me."

"Sound like you're dating," Ace put in. "Classic rejection psychology."

"Rejecting me, are you?" the doctor demanded. He gave Rose a smirk. "See how long it takes you to figure out the TARDIS by yourself."

About to retort that he was more likely to reject her, she was brought up short by that possibility. "Could I?" she asked speculatively.

"No." He looked offended that she would even ask, and that made her laugh.

"Well, you're the one who brought it up," she pointed out. "You're always sending me 'round the console to push this or hold that and I figured, might help if I actually knew what you were on about."

"Trust me," Ace interrupted. "It really doesn't."

"Oh, like you were such a big help," the doctor scoffed. "You with your roomful of explosives and your, 'What's all that shaking?' and 'Couldn't you work on our landings?' and 'I think it would have been better to fly _away_ from the black hole...'"

"You wouldn't need so much help if you had a proper slave circuit," Ace informed him. "The Type 40s were meant to be operated by six people, and no matter how fast you leap about you haven't got twelve arms."

"I've got a slave circuit," the doctor protested. "I have!"

Ace gave him a skeptical look, and he shrugged.

"Well, it's never worked quite right," he admitted. "But I've got one."

"Six people?" Rose repeated. "Is it really meant to have six people working it?"

"Yeah," Ace answered, but she didn't get any further before the doctor disagreed.

"No," he said firmly. "Picked her up from the shop just the way she is, I did. Not meant to be any other way."

Ace snorted. "Nicked her from the repair shop, he means."

"Shut up, you." The doctor wasn't looking at Ace, though--he was looking at her TARDIS.

Ace just smirked. "Come on, Professor, everyone on Gallifrey knew that. They all said you'd got the oldest TARDIS still in operation, and anyone sensible would have given it up years back."

"Couldn't exactly put in an order for a new one, could I? Think you'll find they don't take kindly to freelancers complaining about the quality of stolen merchandise." The doctor still wasn't looking at her, although now his gaze was drifting idly around the console room.

Before Rose could ask about the "stolen" bit he added, "Besides, she's a good old girl. She's got me this far, and we've a long way to go yet."

His gaze settled on something, and he declared, "Aha!"

She and Ace exchanged glances as he strode across the room. "Stolen?" Rose mouthed, and Ace grinned.

Tipping her head back to indicate Rose should join her by the console, Ace kept one eye on the doctor as she murmured, "Exiled, he was. Long time ago. Didn't take. Grabbed that TARDIS he's got now and made off with it. Caught a couple of times, escaped or bargained his way out of it."

"Exiled?" Rose echoed, careful to keep her voice quiet. Not that she didn't think the doctor could hear them, but if they whispered he might pretend not to notice. "What for?"

"Dunno," Ace admitted. "Never said. No one on Gallifrey would tell me, either. Don't think most of 'em know, honestly."

"Life lesson, that," the doctor called from the other side of the room. "Nothing endears you to a planet like a good mystery. Good to keep in mind when certain people on said planet would like to see you..." He waved one hand dramatically. "Disappear."

Turning away from the panel he'd been fiddling with, he held something up in triumph. "Got it. She always did carry a backup, see. Must have left it for you."

Ace squinted at it, but Rose recognized it right away. "She had a sonic screwdriver?"

Ace gave her an odd look. "A what?"

Rose blinked, surprised by the question. "Sonic screwdriver? Looks like a little torch, does... everything under the sun?"

"Hums?" the doctor added. When they both looked at him, he added helpfully, "That's the sonic part."

"How can you not know what a sonic screwdriver is?" Rose wanted to know. "He's never without it."

"Well." The doctor cleared his throat. "There was the time it got destroyed by a giant lizard. Started a bit of a fire, I'm afraid. Didn't have time to build a new one for a while... Just before San Francisco, actually."

He gave Ace an oddly apologetic look, but she seemed to understand. "After my time, then," she said.

Rose frowned, not quite getting it. "What happened in San Francisco?"

"Got shot," the doctor said briefly. "Anyway, think this is yours." He tossed the device to Ace, who caught it with both hands.

"What do I do with it, then?" she wanted to know.

"Whatever you want," he replied. "Drive screws. Open locked things. That's the latest model, so it'll probably make you breakfast if you ask it nicely."

"Probably?" Rose repeated. "You mean that's not your design?"

"Actually--" He fished his own out of his pocket and held it up to the light. Squinting at it like he'd never seen it before, he offered, "This one's hers. Funny idea she had, that it could respond to thought control. Much more versatile than the old one."

"Your old one," Rose guessed. "She made you a new one?"

The doctor snorted. "Not a chance. Made her own when she saw how useful mine was. Took me years to swipe it without her noticing. Had to do it all over again when she upgraded," he added. "Most inconvenient."

"God, you're a regular thief!" Rose exclaimed. "Is there anything you won't nick?"

"Your makeup's safe, if that's what you're worried about," he told her.

"Oh, thanks," she retorted. "That's so reassuring."

"Thought it might be." He beamed at her.

She put a hand on her hip. "Are you going to fix this TARDIS, or what? 'Cause I hear a lot of talk but I'm not seeing a lot of fixing."

"All done," he announced. "Think you'll find you're free to go now," he told Ace. Then he caught Rose's eye again and asked, "Satisfied?"

"You didn't do anything," she protested.

He tapped his temple. "Magic powers," he said smugly. "Off we go, then." He spun away and made for the door, calling over his shoulder, "Take care of yourself, Ace. Don't get in any trouble. Meet us back here tomorrow. Bye now!"

"Hang on," Ace called after him. "Tomorrow?"

"Well, you heard her." He paused by the door. "Finish your training. Interested?"

Ace didn't hesitate. "I'll be here."

"Good." The doctor looked pleased. "Rose?"

"I'll be here too?" she teased, making no move to join him by the door. "Nice to meet you, Ace."

"Yeah." The other woman gave her an assessing look that relaxed into a smile. "You too. Take care of him, will you?"

"Still here, me," the doctor objected. "Gonna see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," Ace said wryly. "The difference is, for me it actually will be tomorrow. For you it'll probably be like a hundred years from now."

It could be, Rose realized. And if it was, then she was wrong. She wouldn't be here too. It was a troubling thought, and she sort of wished she could un-think it.

All the doctor did was repeat, "I'll see you tomorrow." Pointedly, she thought.

Before she could follow him to the door, though, Ace touched her arm and she looked back in surprise. As soon as she saw her face, though, Rose knew what she wanted. "I will," she promised.

Ace nodded, and the doctor didn't say anything. As they stood outside and watched Ace's TARDIS disappear, though, she felt fingers brush against hers. She turned her hand over without looking down, and cool fingers clasped hers tightly. She squeezed back, leaning against him briefly as they stared at the blank wall where the mirror had been.

This time it didn't come back, and she wondered what he had really done. Had he fixed something while he was looking for the sonic screwdriver? Or maybe there hadn't been anything wrong with it to begin with. Maybe Ace had just wanted him to see that message.

Maybe the TARDIS had wanted him to see the message.

She didn't ask, and they made their way back to the familiar blue phone box in silence. He put on a cheerful expression as soon as they stepped inside, and the first thing he asked her was where she wanted to go next. It gave her a sort of sinking feeling when she understood that Ace had been right.

"Tomorrow" for Ace would not be "tomorrow" for him. And it might be "never" for Rose.

She'd met a lot of people she knew she would never see again. In fact, at this point, the number of people she'd never see again probably outnumbered the people she could actually look up on the internet and track down if she wanted to. She was fine with that. But she'd looked forward to knowing Ace a little better.

Still, she picked a place with oceans and beaches and island drinks, and then promptly regretted it when they got embroiled in a feud between the Spear Heads and the Banana People. Only with the doctor, she thought, falling into bed that night. Or the next day. Probably the day after the next day, actually. She was going to make the doctor get her a watch that worked someday.

She'd thought she would sleep right through, dead to the world until she'd got over the most recent bout of chaos and was up for the next. Instead, she found herself blinking blearily at an open door only a few seconds after she'd closed her eyes. There was someone in it.

"Well, don't just stand there," she muttered, and by the way her voice sounded she guessed she'd been asleep for a bit more than a few seconds. "C'mere. And shut the door, would you?"

At least he took his jacket off before he squeezed into bed with her. She wondered distantly if he'd ever slept in Ace's room. She rather thought not. She hadn't known him then, but even she could see that the war had changed him.

She didn't sleep straight through after that, either, but he didn't keep her awake all night. His voice only interrupted her dreams once, and she woke up enough to mumble, "Shh, s'okay," before he quieted. When he called her "Romana," she figured he was talking in his sleep and she patted around for his hand in the darkness. She found his arm, decided that was close enough, and she curled her fingers around the sleeve of his jumper as she drifted back to sleep.

* * *

He lay awake for a long time after that, staring at the ceiling and willing the warmth from Rose's hand to seep into his hearts. She'd heard him say Romana's name, he was sure. And she didn't even ask... just whispered to him and petted him and went back to sleep. Like nothing in the universe could bother her here, in the safety of her room.

Once the TARDIS had been that safe place for him. Once it had represented everything that made him different from the rest of them. Now it was just a symbol of everything they had been. His curiosity had made him a rebel, and his defiance had made him an anachronism... perpetually out of time.

It wasn't so bad when he didn't think about them, really. And he should be so good at it; he'd had so much practice. He ought to be able to just pull out one of the old stories and slip into it like a comfortable coat.

He was on the run. He was in exile, fleeing scandal, heading into hiding. Anything that meant the emptiness in his mind was a good thing. He never wanted to see his home planet again, after all. He was desperately afraid of being trapped there for good. He couldn't stand the place, the people, the time. He was better off alone.

Rose didn't believe him when he said it. He'd almost stopped trying to convince her, except that sometimes he thought she might leave and if he had to argue the subject with her then he didn't want her to think he had an ulterior motive. He did what he did because he wanted her to be happy. Not because he needed her to be.

Romana had never believed him either.

One of the cat pins she'd given him dug into the fingers of his free hand, rescued from the pocket of his jacket and clenched in his fist since he lay down. It was just a stupid cat, nothing to get excited over. But he carried it with him everywhere and he couldn't let it go now. It was the last gift he would ever receive from a fellow Time Lord.

He was so alone. Funny that he'd never realized how much Gallifrey defined his existence until it was gone. It had meant so much to him that he was running _from_ something, not just... running. Aimlessly, without direction, running because to stop meant he would have to think again.

It wasn't so bad when he didn't think about them, really.


End file.
